


Soaring High

by NotSoMadScientist



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Fluff, Flying, Friendship, Gen, Human/Animal Friendship, Magic, Memories, Not Canon Compliant, Not Very Much Conflict, Witches, Wyverns, short story collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSoMadScientist/pseuds/NotSoMadScientist
Summary: “Stop rolling around in the flowers,” Manon scolds Abraxos gently. “Half the mountain still thinks you’re a sissy. Don’t prove them right.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from FanFiction.Net on 8/14/2017, originally published on 5/11/2016.

“I want Titus.”

The nameless bait-beast slumps against his chains, knowing that again he must go through the agonizing torture of a better-off wyvern proving its worth by shredding him. Perhaps this time the little runty bit of wyvern-bait will get the reprieve of death.

Titus, the monstrous, feared wyvern that has just been claimed by one of the witches, slinks out of a tunnel and approaches the bait-beast. He quivers and tries to hold together - figuratively  _ and _ literally.

A slash of Titus’s claws has the poor runt-wyvern crying out in pain, a long stripe sliced across his wing. It takes a second for the little one to realize that Titus’s attack has also broken the chain holding him to the wall, dropping the smaller lizard to the ground.

He struggles to his feet and cowers in the corner, watching Titus advance. Then a cry from above causes him to look up in time to see the silver-haired witch who had claimed Titus topple into the pit.

The tiny wyvern instinctively moves in front of the prone Irontooth. After all, he has watched the others train, and they are trained to protect the witches.

Titus doesn’t seem to remember this, and he advances toward the fallen witch and the bait-beast, who stiffens and bares what few fangs remain in his mouth after all the beatings he has been put through. The older, bigger Titus slashes another claw at him -

The bait-beast doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. When he comes out of his hazy state of fighting, he sees a few things.

One: Titus is lying on the ground and seems to be… dead? What happened to him? A runty, good-for-nothing bait-beast could never kill the best trained wyvern in the mountain!

Two: The silver-haired witch is alive and getting to her feet. There are a few new red splotches just barely visible on her red cloak.

And three: the witch is coming towards him. He takes a wary step back. Even though he had protected her, he has never been touched by a human or a witch for any reason other than to inflict pain. Above, it has gone silent.

The witch steps forward again and rests her hand on the wyvern’s muzzle. He freezes.

“My name is Manon Blackbeak,” she says to him. To him, the wyvern no one has ever cared about.

_ Manon. _ The name echoes in his mind, his first truly conscious thought in days. She has cleared the mist of pain hovering over his mind.

“My name is Manon Blackbeak,” she repeats. “Your name is to be Abraxos, and you are mine.”


	2. Chapter 2

Manon descends down the twisting staircase into the depths of the mountain, where her Abraxos is being kept. The ground levels out beneath her feet, and the witch finds herself staring at hundreds of caged wyverns lined up against the walls. Some of them shrink back, away from her, while a few others rear forward to get a closer look. One particularly brave soul lashes its claws out at her, but a flash of Manon’s iron teeth keeps that one at bay.

Abraxos is being held at the end of this long hallway of wyverns, so she feels almost as if she is running a gauntlet of wyverns, watching and appraising her.

She shakes the thoughts away and withdraws the key that she ‘borrowed’ from the human guard and unlocks the gate to cell 247, where her wyvern is. Abraxos is cowering in the back corner of the holding cell, but ventures forward when he sees that his visitor is just Manon.

When a scaly snout nudges her hand curiously, Manon almost laughs. She is Manon Blackbeak, heir of the Blackbeak Clan, and here is a wyvern wanting to be stroked like a cat. She complies with a small smile, but wrinkles her nose.

“You smell horrible,” Manon tells Abraxos. “You need a bath.” She doesn’t know if the lizard understands her, but maybe her point got across at least.

The witch clips an iron chain onto the collar of her wyvern, leading him up the oversized stairs to the outside. Abraxos relaxes in the cool breeze while Manon climbs into the saddle on his back. “We’re crossing the Gap.” She digs her heels into his side, and the wyvern reluctantly steps forward, jumping off the edge.

Manon gives a shout of glee as the ground comes rushing up under them. She knows Abraxos’s spidersilk-reinforced wings will hold her up, as they always have before, but it is still exhilarating. Abraxos pulls out of his dive and glides upward, landing next to a stream on the far side.

“I’ll be back,” Manon says. “Don’t go anywhere.” She adds a threatening look, but Abraxos just huffs and flops down on the grass.

Manon returns ten minutes later with a soaked piece of cloth and an armful of purple flowers. “Hold still.”

The flowers turn out to be lavender, which Abraxos actually appears to like. Manon soaps the cloth with a sliver of soap she had tucked in her belt, thoroughly wiping down his scales. He growls at her, but it’s a friendly growl. Just playing. Manon finishes his bath by rubbing the lavender into his scales, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

“Maybe the lavender wasn’t the best idea,” Manon observes.

Abraxos growls questioningly.

“You smell like a flower patch now.”


	3. Chapter 3

A solitary wyvern flaps her wings high above the clouds, aiming for the mountain peaks emerging from the fluffy cloud cover far ahead of her. Her mother had said that there were other wyverns there, and the wyvern would follow her senior’s guidance.

Her mother…

The lizard can only remember a few hazy snippets of what had happened. Her mother, shooing her out of danger. Humans approaching with fire-sticks. Flames shooting up all around her poor defenseless mother.

Her most treasured possession came from her mother: her name, Yranell. Roughly translated into the human tongue it meant ‘Glittering Scales.’ Yranell prides herself on them, taking time whenever she could to shine herself in some secluded mountain stream so that she can live up to her name.

Farther on, the mountain range is fast approaching. Yranell pauses and hovers in the air about a mile or so away. She knows there are other wyverns like her there, but there are humans too. What if they try to kill her like they did in her old home?

She focuses on continuing to fly and forgets about her misgivings as the cool mountain air rushes across her wings. As she approaches, closer and closer, green and blue and black specks start to appear ahead; other wyverns! Yranell decides that this will be the place for her and comes in for a landing on a patch of lush green grass that looks empty. Perhaps she can spend the night there before trying to meet any others.

***

Manon and Abraxos are relaxing in the grassy meadow that Abraxos discovered, their own personal hideout from the chaos of the mountain full of humans and witches and wyverns. “Stop rolling around in the flowers,” Manon scolds her companion gently. “Half the mountain still thinks you’re a sissy. Don’t prove them right.”

Abraxos growls exasperatedly but hauls himself to his feet. “Ready to head back?” Manon asks.

The wyvern shakes his head in an eerily human-like gesture, before jerking his tail at the sky. “What is it?”

But as Manon looks closer, she sees a small green speck coming in their general direction. A wyvern, but she sees no rider, or saddle for that matter. What could a riderless wyvern be doing here?

She hastily backs up and yanks on Abraxos’s reins as it becomes clear that the other creature is coming in for a landing in their meadow. Abraxos tenses.

With a swoosh of air, the other wyvern collapses awkwardly into the middle of the grass. One of its wings is splayed at an awkward angle, but it drags it to the side of its body and lies there.

Abraxos steps forward tentatively and noses the other, who looks like a girl from the shape of her wings and head. She responds by reaching up her head and eyeing Abraxos warily. He looks back, unafraid, and growls something in the wyvern language that Manon has been trying to learn, but to no avail.

The newcomer wearily gets to her feet and limps over to Manon. The witch unsheathes her iron nails as a precaution, but retracts them when she sees the state that the female wyvern is in: a twisted leg, a rip in her wing, spots of ash on her scales.

Manon places a hand on the wyvern’s muzzle. “What could your name be?”

She growls something.

“Yeralla?”

A shake of her head.

“Yrena?”

No.

“Yrenal?”

Still not right.

“Yranell?”

The girl nods and rubs up against Abraxos.

“Well, shit.” Manon gets to her feet. “Why did I have to be the one who ends up with two wyverns?”


	4. Chapter 4

_ Good afternoon, Abraxos, _ Yranell says to her wyvern companion.  _ Want to go on a flight together? _

_ Sounds wonderful, _ he agrees with a coughing-purr sound unique to a happy wyvern.  _ Do you know where Manon is? _

_ She’s probably off with her coven or something, _ Yranell says dismissively.  _ Let’s go fly over the mountains. _

_ I’ll race you to that peak over there! _ Abraxos doesn’t wait for Yranell to reply, spreading his enhanced wings and flapping off the edge of the ledge.

_ Get back here! _ she calls after him affectionately. Her wings will do perfectly well, especially since Manon patched her up that day weeks ago when she landed here in this very meadow. She wasn’t there much longer, taking off on her friend’s heels.

The wind is cool and soothing against Yranell’s wings, bringing back some painful memories. She leaves them behind with the clouds, sneaking up behind Abraxos and tapping his tail with her own.

_ Hey! _ he says with a hissing laugh.  _ I’ll get you for that! _

Yranell puts on a burst of speed and continues toward their mountain-top goal. A few minutes later, she sets herself down on the flattest ledge she can find and waits for Abraxos to catch up.  _ Slowpoke, _ she teases when he arrives.  _ Good to see you after all this time. _

_ Shut your snout, _ he says laughingly. He folds up his wings a few feet away from Yranell and settles in for a rest.

She decides to take the liberty of scooching over the short distance and wraps her tail around him.


	5. Chapter 5

Cool winds.

Fluttering breezes.

A rush of death-defying exhilaration.

The flapping of Abraxos’s wings.

Manon loves to fly with her wyvern. She hasn’t been able to soar high through the skies of Adarlan since the day magic disappeared, which also happened to be one of the worse days of her life. That took a long time to recover from…

***

_ “Come on, slowpokes,” Asterin called over her shoulder from her position next to Manon. “The coven doesn’t wait for so-called damaged brooms!” _

_ Manon smiled at her cousin and second-in-command of the Thirteen. “You said it. We should really get going, you’re right. Grandmother will kill us if we’re late to the feast.” She let the smile go, knowing the reality of such a statement when involved with a clan of witches. She wouldn’t put it past Mother Blackbeak to follow through on Manon’s joking threat. It had happened once or twice before, and with the anniversary of the death of the accursed Crochan’s death, the one who had cursed the Ironteeth, today was one of the most important of the year. Mother Blackbeak was holding a banquet to show the witches’ determination to reclaim their rightful home. _

_ Flashing an iron-toothed smile, Manon dipped down through a cloud - and abruptly started to slip as a terrible sensation rushed across her. It burned like the coldest ice she could imagine, and she struggled to right herself as soon as it passed. Her ironwood broom refused to respond to her magic-influenced directions, and in desperation she yanked hard on the handle, trying to lift the nose up and set herself flying again. _

_ To her horror, the handle snapped clean off, leaving Manon with a splintering wooden handle, barely enough to hold on to.  _ How is this happening?!  _ Manon thought wildy. Ironwood’s magic was supposed to prevent it from ever breaking. _

_ Around her, the twelve other members of the Thirteen were having similar troubles. The ground rushed up beneath her far too fast, and she just barely managed to snag the branch of a tree with her iron nails before becoming an unsightly splatter on the rocky ground. _

_ Looking around, she could see Asterin, Edda, Ghislaine, Thea, and Kaya similarly clinging to safe handholds. The rest of her coven… she didn’t want to know. All Manon could think about was how badly Mother Blackbeak was going to punish them. _

***

Manon tries to concentrate on flying with Abraxos.  _ Not a good memory to recall while flying,  _ she thinks. Abraxos swoops over to Yranell, and she forgets, reveling in the cool sky air.


	6. Chapter 6

“Come on, Yranell!” Manon says in exasperation. “It’s just a saddle! I won’t strangle you with it!” It’s the first time she has attempted to ride her second wyvern, and Yranell isn’t taking it too well. “I just want to ride you! Abraxos lets me, so why won’t you?”

Yranell growls and backs away from the leather saddle. Manon can just tell she’s thinking something along the lines of  _ Shut up and let me go for a flight with Abraxos - and without that thing. _

“No can do, you idiot,” Manon says impatiently. “Just let me put it on you once and go for a short trip and then I won’t make you wear it for the rest of the week.”

She doesn’t know if Yranell can understand Manon’s language or if she’s just being stubborn, but the wyvern has an undeniably stubborn look on her face. “What is it? Is it the saddle? I can get another saddle…” Manon says helplessly. She darts back into the mountain and returns several minutes later with a new saddle.

Yranell cocks her head questioningly and takes a step back when she sees Manon try to put the other saddle on her. “Just try it,” Manon orders. “Maybe you’ll like this one better. This was Abraxos’s first saddle, but he outgrew it a few months ago. It’s quite worn, but maybe you’ll like it better anyhow.”

The old leather looks plain at first, but underneath the cracks and scuffing there’s an embroidery of leaves and vines. Manon would never tell anyone that she had done housework, but the Wing Leader had done the stitching herself.

Yranell reluctantly holds still as Manon tightens the straps of her saddle and harness. The wyvern growls quietly but began to relax when she has decided the riding gear won’t hurt her.

“I did it,” Manon mutters in relief. “Now just let me ride you.”

The witch tentatively swings a leg over Yranell’s new saddle and breaths a sigh of relief when she sees that she won’t be bucked off. “Now fly,” Manon says, and digs her heels into Yranell’s side.

The wyvern tosses her head, startled, but compliantly takes off into the sky.


	7. Chapter 7

Yranell stretches, awake from her sleep in her and Abraxos’s meadow.  _ I’m hungry. Time to go hunting. _ She slips out of the grassy patch besides him and spreads her wings.  _ Where should I go now? _

She soars high up into the sky and drifts among the clouds for a while, but it’s just not satisfying for her. A patch of sheer rock catches her eye and she dives down, striking a goat that had been nibbling on some of the sparse grass.  _ Well, there’s my food. _ Yranell finds a small ledge just big enough for her to perch on and devours the unfortunate animal whole.  _ Now what? _

A flicker of breeze tugs at her wings, enticing her into jumping off the ledge and spreading her wings just enough for the wind to catch her. A cool gust sends her fluttering across a cloud and away from the mountain. She doesn’t resist, though, and lets the wind take her where it wants.

Far in the distance, a small green speck appears. Yranell pauses and hovers mid-air. It’s another wyvern, she can see that, but what are they doing here…?

Wait. She knows that wyvern. She would recognize them anywhere, with that crooked tail.

_ Mother?! _ she calls to the swiftly approaching lizard.  _ Mother! What are you doing here? How did you find me? _

_ My dear girl, _ the green wyvern replies joyfully.  _ I escaped from the humans, and came here since I knew I told you to go to the mountains. And now I’ve found you! Come, now we can go return to a new home. _

_ No, Mother, I can’t leave, _ Yranell insists immediately.  _ I have friends here now. Come meet them, and then we can talk. _

Yranell’s mother obligingly agrees and they fly back to the meadow. Abraxos is standing there with Manon when they arrive, and the witch doesn’t look happy.

“You! You brought me  _ another _ wyvern to take care of? How do you expect me to do that? Why you…”

Yranell cuts her off by knocking the Irontooth over with a nudge of her snout.  _ Don’t worry about Manon, _ Yranell assures her mother.  _ She’ll let you stay. _

Abraxos, Yranell, and her mother all curl up on the grass and introduce themselves. Manon just sits there bewilderedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the last chapter! Thank you for reading.


End file.
